I Hate Everything About You
by ShatteredHeart-BlueSapphire
Summary: How can two people hate each other so much but at the same time need each other? How far of a step is hate from love? Is it possible to feel both at the same time? Apparently that's the case. PLEASE READ THE WARNING! First songfic, reivew please!


**DISCLAIMER!!! Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling! The song is **_**(I Hate) Everything About You**_** by ****Three Days Grace****! I do not make money from this!!!**

**WARNING!!!** It's rated 'M' for a reason! Beware of sex and masochism!!!!

**A/N: **Well, this actually popped out of nowhere and I liked the idea… and it went with this song and I thought it'd be poifect! Lol. This is my first songfic so let me know what you think!!! _Please review_!

~.~.~

_Every time we lie awake  
After every hit we take  
Every feeling that I get  
But I haven't missed you yet_

She was lying on the bed next to him hearing his steady breathing. She knew he was awake, and he knew she was awake as they both lay on their respective sides of the bed without touching. They had just had sex, for it was not lovemaking, and they both felt an inexplicable and unreasonable type of loss as they lay there, but neither of them felt the need of touching the other.

_Every roommate kept awake  
By every sigh and scream we make  
All the feelings that I get  
But I still don__'__t miss you yet_

He suddenly turned toward her and even before he took her into a bruising and violent kiss, she knew what he wanted and what he was going to do. He always took her in the same fashion, violent, no mercy, and she always responded in kind. It was a competition of sorts, who could make one need the other first? Who could make the other make an appreciative sound first? She would always win the first, she knew she had the body to tempt him as they lay naked on his bed, and she had learned to control herself enough to be able to not act when she saw his naked body. However, she always lost the second battle. He could always make her moan or emit some other type of appreciative sound first, and he knew it. They were both secretly glad they never forgot to put a Silencing Charm on the door.

He ravished her once again, and again, it was merciless, violent, it was a masochist type of sex. He would always ride her roughly and she would always dig her nails into his flesh. He would kiss her without caring if he hurt her, and she always responded in kind. He didn't caress her, simply touched her in the way he knew she liked to be touched, and she would do the same for him, merely returning the favor. There wasn't anything special in what they did; they simply lusted after each other's bodies. There was no disappointment when they parted, simply that unreasonable and identifiable loss.

_Only when I stop to think about it_

I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you  
I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you

Desirae Smith hated everything about Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was a fake, just like every Slytherin when they wanted something. She hated that underneath the façade he despised Muggle-borns, Muggles, and Muggle-born sympathizers. He was so hypocritical, hating anyone who wasn't pureblood (or half-blood, though he didn't prioritize them much), when _he_ wasn't even a pureblood. He even tried to hide the fact one of his parents had been a Muggle! How much more hypocritical could he get!?

Fake smiles, fake interest, fake respect, fake everything. If she didn't know better she'd even say Riddle's features were fake, they were so perfect! His stupid smirk, and his stupid, well-acted farce, not to mention his stupid good looks! He drove her mad, and she would always be thankful that she was not in his same stupid House, with the Slytherfreaks. She hated that _he_ of all people was her competition education-wise. They were often partners for Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and any other class they had together where they needed partners because they were both top students at Hogwarts. His mixed signals were another thing she hated about him, and he himself was annoying.

She also hated when he kissed her and loathed it when she returned it. She hated that she needed him, needed to feel him, his hands all over her. She hated that only _he_ could make her feel like that and hated that she didn't want to be with anyone else. She hated that he knew how and where to touch her to make her feel so remarkably good. She hated that he knew her so well, more than just physically.

_Every time we lie awake  
After every hit we take  
Every feeling that I get  
But I haven't missed you yet_

As she walked down the hallway, she was suddenly seized by the arm in a painfully bruising grip and dragged into an empty classroom. When she turned she saw him close the door and lock it. He looked at her coldly as she looked back with a hard expression on her features. It had been a while since they had been together, in fact, they hadn't even touched each other in a long time, yet it seemed as if they were each holding their own just fine.

_Only when I stop to think about it_

I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you  
I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you

"What do you want?" she asked her voice cold.

"You know what I want," he said with the same tone as hers.

"You can't just demand it of me," she sneered.

"I can and I will," he said glaring.

"How so?" she asked angrily.

"You belong to me," he told her simply, with one of his stupid smirks.

"No, I don't _belong_ to you, you _need_ me," she informed with an informative tone as she smirked.

"Most unfortunate is the fact you are right, but you know you need me as well," he said mimicking her.

"I wish I could say otherwise," she told him and added, "I hate you." She all but spat it, inwardly surprising him.

He looked at her coldly. "Do not think I am so foolish as to fall for _you_. I despise you also," he said venomously.

She gave him a murderous glare that was returned. She tilted her head up defiantly and walked toward the door, which he was near. She put her hand on the doorknob. "When?" was all she asked.

"Tonight," was all he said and she understood she had to be out by the portrait. They would meet after his rounds. She nodded curtly and turned toward the door, drawing her wand to unlock the door.

She didn't have time for that as she was painfully turned around and pushed against the wall. His lips crashed on hers, their teeth almost clashing. He kissed her heatedly and invaded into her mouth forcefully, and she responded by gripping the front of his robes and pulling him closer non-too-gently. He had never kissed her when they made the arrangements, but it had been too long.

_Only when I stop to think  
About you, I know  
Only when you stop to think  
About me, do you know_

Neither of them would admit that in the moment their eyes had locked images of other nights ran through their minds. Flashes of the past invaded their memories, of the way they physically fit nicely together, of each other's screams and cries of pleasure, and of the way needed to feel each other. In that moment, that inexplicable and irrational loss seemed to intensify.

_I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you  
You hate everything about me  
Why do you love me_

Tom Marvolo Riddle hated everything about Desirae Smith. He hated how easily she was accepted by everyone and how she was actually interested in other people's problems and that she tried to help them. He hated that she cared so much about people and that it was genuine. He hated that she was a blood traitor. He hated that she wasn't like the other girls, that she stood out to him not because of her ridiculously good looks but because she was not an air head.

Genuine smiles, selfless interest, actual respect, she was a fool! Her beauty was natural, and her personality simply heightened her good looks. Her stupid laughs, her stupid authentic caring, her stupid features. She drove him mad and he was glad that he was not in her same stupid House, with the Hufflepoofs. He hated that _she _was his competition at Hogwarts when it came to his studies. They were partners for classes they had together where they needed partners because they were top students. She was annoying and her mixed signals only made him hate her more.

He also hated that she was a good kisser and absolutely abhorred it when he returned her kiss. He hated that he needed her, that he needed physical contact with her, to have her hands touch him. He hated that only_ she_ had that effect on him and that he wasn't sexually interested in another girl. He hated that she knew how to tempt him and that she knew how make him want her. He hated that she had the ability to know where and how to touch him to make him feel extraordinarily good. He hated that she knew him on more than just on a physical level.

_I hate  
You hate  
I hate  
You love me_

Once in his room (and after casting the Silencing Charm) she went over to the bed and took off her robe. She was about to take off her top when he took her wrists to stop her. She looked up at him, surprise clearly written all over her features. The way he had taken her wrists… it was different, it was… gentle. He leaned forward and kissed her… softly. She stiffened and did not return the kiss. She was not used to this. He had never, since they started to have sex together, been gentle, not even when it had been her first time. What was he doing?

He pulled away and looked at her a moment before leaning in to whisper in her ear. "Do you want it like before?" he asked his hot breath making her shiver. He pulled away again and he patiently waited for a response as he continued to hold her wrists without hurting her. She looked up at him. Did she want it like before? Then she looked down at where he was holding her. She slowly disengaged herself from his grasp. The only physical contact she made with him was when she pressed her lips to his… lightly. Why not try something new? He knew that was her way of agreeing.

He caressed her cheek lightly with his fingertips and he looked straight into her eyes and he gave her a small smile. He put his arms around her waist and instead of pulling her closer, he took a step forward. He leaned down and kissed her tenderly. He ran his tongue on the seam of her lips and she parted them.

He explored her body through her clothes, reveling in the feel of her. She ran her hands up his chest and pushed his robe off. As they continued their gentle ways she undressed him until he was only in his boxers. This had never happened before. Usually they each undressed themselves, but when they did undress each other, he always had her reduced to nothing first. Now she was fully clothed while he wasn't.

As they continued to kiss, he slowly began lifting her night shirt, intentionally brushing his fingers along spots he knew were sensitive. There were times when she gasped, but mostly she moaned so unintentionally seductive that he couldn't help but to reply in kind. He broke the kiss and pulled her top over her head. He slid his arms around her waist, flesh against flesh, and she stepped closer to him and they both reveled in the way they felt against each other. They caressed each other as they kissed, each expressing how much effect their touches had on them without speaking.

He teased the waistband of her sleeping pants before he slid them off her. Then, he gently laid her on the bed, him on top of her supporting his weight on his elbows. Now he explored her body slowly and tenderly with his hands and his mouth. She gripped his shoulders, and yet she did not hurt him, she merely needed something to hold on to while he pleasured her. However, she also pleasured him, not only by her reactions, but by her caresses, her soft touch. The rest of the clothes were shortly after discarded.

He was inside her and they were both really close to climaxing. He held out until she came. As her orgasm hit her she cried out his name as she arched toward him. Only after she began to descend from her high did he finally cum with her name falling from his lips. They held each other as they were hit with the aftershocks of their blissful lovemaking, for that was the only way to describe it.

_I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you_

He was still holding her. She still couldn't believe they were _cuddling_. She looked at him with questioning eyes. He shook his head slightly. "Don't, please," he said brushing a strand of hair away from her face and she knew not to ask. But she didn't have to because she _knew_.

In that experience he had been showing her something, something he would never dare say aloud. With each caress and each gentle touch and kiss he was telling her he loved her. As her name was pronounced by him she knew and understood because she too had done the same. When she accepted his request of gentleness, when she caressed him, she was telling him she loved him. As she cried out his name she had been confirming it, that she loved him because she knew then that he loved her too.

As they lay in each others arms, they slowly were able to fall asleep.

The next morning they had dressed in utter silence. She was about to leave but he took her arm in a vice-like, painful grip. "Don't grow accustomed to that," he told her coldly. She knew he was talking about last night.

"Of course I won't," she sneered and yanked her arm away from him. She tilted her head up defiantly before she walked out of the room. They both now knew how they felt for each other, but just because they had fallen in love with each other didn't mean they hated each other any less. Fortunately, they no longer had to guess what that unreasonable and inexplicable loss was, because now they knew.

That morning was very special. However, nobody (not even Desirae) but Tom Marvolo Riddle knew that. Nobody except him would know it was a special day because they didn't know _why_. They didn't know that for the first time, Tom Marvolo Riddle would be making his first Horcrux.

*** Please review and tell me what you thought! I've never written something like this before!!!**


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